Two Roads Diverged in the Force
by IrishIris
Summary: ...and Obi-Wan doesn't know which to travel by. For years he's endured both nightmares and blissful dreams of his two possible futures- one with a Sith of a master, the other of a master with a heart warm enough to melt the ice planet Hoth. Yoda is trying to screen all potential Masters, but one in particular defies all the tests. And Qui-Gon is determined to have a new padawan.
1. Dreams of light, dreams of darkness

A/N: Wow! I haven't written a fanfic in _years_. And then I wake up this morning to this little gem in my head. I'm fairly sure this will be the longest fic I've ever undertaken, but I'm promising one upload a week!

Disclaimer Haiku: George Lucas is rich / and I am not, ergo I / do not own Star Wars.

A timid knock sounded on the door of Yoda's small apartment. Obi-Wan was standing outside in the dark hallway, sucking his thumb and clutching his little lantern like one off to battle. The cast light flickered and twitched on the high hallway walls as Obi-Wan shook. _Such a vivid dream…_

Yoda's door _swished_ open to reveal the Jedi Master himself, dressed in a disheveled sleeping tunic. Obi-Wan popped his thumb out of his mouth and tried to stand straight, like he had been taught to stand in the presence of a Master. After appraising one another for a moment, Yoda motioned over his shoulder with his walking stick, "Follow me, you should."

The hobbling Jedi led the way through his dark, standard-issue quarters. When he reached the far wall, he palmed a small button that would be almost invisible to anyone more than one standard meter tall. A little door made its own _swish_ and revealed an inner room.

Yoda looked thoughtfully at Obi-Wan. "Inside, you should come, youngling. Much to tell me, you do." The Jedi master went inside and sat upon a child-sized chair to pour some tea, freshly brewed. Obi-Wan stared at his slippers and bit his lip, but he did cross the threshold. He did not Want to tell Yoda his dream, but Crèche Master Tachi had told him to answer any questions Master Yoda asked.

Obi-Wan looked around while Yoda drew a tin of biscuits from a cupboard. The furniture in this little room was not like the child-sized furniture in the crèche. It wasn't colorful or childish in the least; rather, it looked like real, adult furniture, only smaller. Obi-Wan decided he liked the room and nestled into the soft folds of the armchair.

Once Yoda had handed the youngling his tea and biscuits, he closed his eyes and hummed. "Strange dreams, you have had, Obi-Wan. Strange dreams, _I_ have had. Tell me your dreams, you should. Seek truth in our dreams, we should." When Obi-Wan remained silent, preferring instead to twist the folds of his tunic, Yoda spoke again.

"In my dreams, a padawan grown, you are. Full of beads, your braid is. With one master, you sometimes are. With another, you are at other times."

"That's in my dreams too!" the little youngling said, eyes wide. "And one of the masters is good. And the other one is, is..."

That's the trouble with four-year-olds, Yoda thought. Their words were so small, so insignificant compared with harsh realities like Sith and Dark Side. The youngling would not understand his own dreams for many years. But knowing the child in front of him was having the same, or at least similar dreams to his own made up his mind. He needed to see _exactly_ what Obi-Wan was dreaming about.

"Sleep in my quarters tonight, you shall." Yoda said, banging his gimer stick on the ground. "Let you out of my sight, I will not. Make this deal with every youngling, I do not."

Obi-Wan's eyes grew as round as the third biscuit he was raising up to his lips. Every youngling was star-struck by the diminutive Jedi whose presence he was currently enjoying. Sleeping in Yoda's quarters held all the promise of a backstage music hall pass coupled with an extra playtime reward. Obi-Wan began to bounce a little in his seat before deciding that Jedi probably do not bounce. He sat on his hands to restrain himself, but Yoda had already noticed.

"If handle this, you cannot, make you sleep in the healer's wing, I shall." Yoda snapped, "Very important, it is, for you to sleep tonight." Though the child made an honest attempt to close his eyes and sleep, Yoda realized that the child wouldn't likely be able to in a new and unfamiliar environment. Without even a wave of his hand, he sent a light Force-sleep suggestion to wash over the boy.

Obi-Wan's eyes started to flutter closed with the suggestion, but only for an instant. He cried out against the pull, forcing his eyes as wide open as he could and sitting straight up in the armchair. "Please Master Yoda, I don't want to have the bad dreams again."

Yoda put a wrinkled hand over the boy's forehead, gently guiding his head to rest on the arm of the chair. "Face his fears, a Jedi must. But face them alone, he must not. Be with you in your dreams, I shall." With that, Yoda sent a Force-suggestion strong enough to knock out a herd of Bantha towards the youngling. When he was confident that the boy had truly fallen asleep, he put himself into a deep meditative trance and went into the deep waters of the Force.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Obi-Wan was running fast. The ground beneath his feet was dark red in color, streaming in rivers that looked eerily like blood from the downpour of rain. He splashed through puddle after puddle, trying to put as much distance between him and…whatever he was running from. A voice was speaking to him in his mind.

"You don't have much time before they discover you, Padawan. Complete your task and get out before you're caught. I don't want to be held liable for your mistakes- again." The last word had a razor's edge to it, and the Obi-Wan that was safe in Yoda's quarters started to toss and turn.

The Obi-Wan in the dream, however, felt confident. "I won't let you down, Master. Just a little bit further." His lightsaber felt cool in his hand, ready to get to work.

The dream became fuzzy then as the Force recoiled, as if it were trying to buck the possibilities the dreams promised. But the dream reconfigured to show Dream Obi-Wan cutting down an entire council of elected officials. There were screams and shouts from the conference room, but the red blade sliced through the air until the last voice was silenced at last. Once Dream Obi-Wan had made sure they were all lifeless, he leapt through the open window and out into the rain, pounding the dark red mud in escape.

The Force shuddered again, this time succeeding in shaking off the nightmarish visions and leaving Obi-Wan in a wash of neutral senses from the other sleeping force-signatures in the Temple. From within his trance, Yoda frowned. The boy's dreams were far more vivid than his own, more vivid than any four-year-old had any right to be dreaming. No wonder he hadn't wanted to sleep. Yoda considered waking the boy since his fears had been confirmed, but just then a new dream began to take shape in Obi-Wan's mind.

This time, Obi-Wan was running at a break-neck pace, nearly flying over tall marshland beside a slow-moving river. The reeds swayed in the wind, pulling Obi-Wan this way and that since his head didn't reach even halfway up their tall stalks. A voice reached out to Obi-Wan's mind in this dream too, but a voice much steadier and calm than the last. "Remember your training, Padawan. Focus."

In the distance, Dream Obi-Wan could see a sloping platform rising into the sky directly in front of him. He grinned and pushed himself even further, letting the Force carry him to speeds unknown to mere humanoids. His padawan braid was slapping hard against the back of his neck, but he quickly released the annoyance into the Force as he came to the platform. Careening at full speed, he launched himself up the ramp and into the air.

"Master!" he called out through the bond, "I'm FLYING!"

Though in reality, Obi-Wan was falling, and fast. Despite the Master's continued instructions from across the bond, Obi-Wan landed in a belly-flop in the river. When he sputtered to the surface, the water in his eyes made his vision unfocused. All he could see was a tall, brown-cloaked figure staring at him from the riverbank, chuckling. "We still have some work to do, Obi-Wan."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Obi-Wan that was still curled into Yoda's armchair relaxed as the remnants of his second vision faded away and he passed into the dreamless stage of sleep.

Yoda, similarly, pulled himself out of his trance and sighed. His own dreams had been focused on the boy's very distant future, one both shrouded in shadows and yet bursting with Light. He couldn't understand how either of the boy's potential futures, if the dreams could be called that, could lead to the presence of _both_ Light and Dark in his life. It didn't add up.

In any case, there was no question about the boy's preference for the Unifying Force. Dreams like these just didn't come to those who were more comfortable in the Living Force. And that was exactly what worried Yoda. More and more of the Unifying Jedi had been slipping away recently, one by one turning Dark as if by some plague. Watching the youngling sleeping in his armchair, he made a vow. This one, he promised, they would _not_ have.

A/N: There you go! What do you think of this start? Lather on the harsh criticism if you've got it, just don't mindlessly hate. Hate leads to suffering and all that. ;)


	2. Past and present

:::Eight years earlier:::

Qui-Gon could feel the sweat trickling down his back. Though the transport back from Telos IV had been too hot for the past several hours, he knew it was really the Jedi Temple coming into view which was making him perspire. By sundown, he'd be invited to a council meeting. An invitation he'd be required to accept, though Qui-Gon thought he'd rather accept an invitation to be eaten by a Sarlaac. Of all the council meetings Qui-Gon had attended in his lifetime, this would be the worst. He put his head in his cupped hands and sighed. It wouldn't even be worth meditating, for he'd realized that as soon as he reached for the Force, he'd be struck with pain emanating from the frayed ends of his bond with- his former padawan.

When his transport touched down, Tahl was waiting for him on the landing pad. She had her arms folded into her sleeves, but when Qui-Gon looked up he could see it was taking all her self-control to keep from reaching out to him.

"Qui-Gon, you can't know how relieved I am that you've returned," she said with a slight bow.

Instead, Qui-Gon pulled up his shoulder like a wall between them and turned down the corridor that led to his quarters. Surely, the council would grant him a few precious minutes to clean up before he was required to report.

But he stalled in his tracks when he remembered what would be waiting in his quarters when he arrived. The empty padawan's room, the extra clothes, the datapads, his handful of souvenirs from missions they'd gone on together. He gulped.

A light hand tentatively rested on his shoulder. "Qui? If you want to be alone, I'll back off. But… I am here."

Qui-Gon gently slipped out from under her hand. "Thank you, Tahl. I know. I know. I think I would prefer to be alone, but if you could come with me to my quarters for just a minute?" He froze at his choice of words and backpedalled, "I mean-"

Tahl closed her eyes and shook her head, ignoring the innuendo Qui-Gon was blushing so furiously from, "I figured you wouldn't want to see so many reminders of him quite yet. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of putting away all his things before you arrived. They're in a bag in my quarters if you ever want them, but I thought you might be able to handle an empty room better than…"

He nodded. "Thank you. I wasn't quite sure how…"He shook away the images of the pain he might have felt, and the two fell into a tense silence. They walked slowly down the dim corridor towards the meditation gardens, though neither was conscious of choosing that destination. There were still a few hours before sundown. As they walked, Qui-Gon mused. There had always been good understanding between the two of them, but he hadn't expected this level of empathy from her. He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing he couldn't allow it.

When they reached the entryway to the garden, Qui-Gon reached out and pulled back on Tahl's arm. "Wait. I can't let you meditate with me."

She nodded, "I did some research. Are you having trouble with your bond? I can try to-"

He waved the suggestion away with his hands. "Though I would appreciate that at some later time, that's not what I meant." She cocked her head to the side, and a wave of soft, dark hair fanned out over her shoulder. Qui-Gon took a breath. "Perhaps I should say it would be unwise to meditate with me. I'm… I'm a mess. Less than firmly grounded in the Light, if you must know. And you can't put me back together. So maybe you should just go back to your own quarters."

Tahl nodded, before standing on the tips of her toes to place a kiss on his cheek, light as sunshine. "I understand, and admire you. Grieve as you must, there is no shame in that. But don't be afraid to let other people in, just because one chose to spurn the gift of your friendship."

Qui-Gon ran his fingers over the warm spot on his cheek as he watched her fade down the corridor. "Damn her," he said as he turned back, cursing under his breath as he tried to regulate his heartbeat.

:::::Present day:::::

Obi-Wan was pretending not to notice the crowd of people that had gathered outside his 'saber salle during free practice. Block, parry, lunge. That was all he need be aware of, not the Masters taking notes into datapads with eyes flitting over all the other initiates.

Between blows, he glanced over at Bant, easily taking down a Togrutan classmate with a well-timed force push. He'd already seen several Masters taking notice of the Mon Calamari, and he predicted she'd have a Master before the end of the Coruscant winter. He'd like to put himself in the same boat, he thought as he made a clean flip over the head of his opponent, but Bant had drawn the attention of Masters for months now, and no Master had so much as spoken to him yet.

A bell rang, signaling the end of free practice, and all the initiates slumped to the floor for a cool-down meditation. All of the initiates except for Bruck Chen, that is. Bruck always got a little over-excited about 'saber practice, and infrequently ended on time. It took a 'saber Master's intervention to pull him away from the poor initiate huddled in a corner with a deactivated practice 'saber.

Obi-Wan opened one eye from his cross-legged spot on the ground to see a few masters shaking their heads as they walked away from the viewing window. If there was any motivation to become a padawan, Obi-Wan thought, it was to avoid spending the rest of his life with Bruck in the AgriCorps.

Obi-Wan sunk deep into the Force then, letting it sooth all his tense, spasming muscles and clear his mind. He could sense the Force-signatures of the rest of his classmates behaving similarly, and the room took on a calm, tranquil atmosphere.

He stayed like that until the commanding Force-signature of Yoda washed his senses in the color, smell, and taste of _green_.

"Come to my quarters after lessons, you will. Much to discuss about your future, we have."

Obi-Wan groaned internally. While the rest of his age-mates were still awed by the little Master, Obi-Wan was annoyed by him because of these frequent meetings. For most of his young life, he met as often as once a week with Yoda, discussing dreams and coming up with plans. He couldn't see what results there were, aside from him having less recreation time than the rest of the initiates and being more frequently accused of being a Master's pet.

This meeting better be about getting a Master, Obi-Wan thought as he got up off the floor, for he was losing patience.


	3. Blushing

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's read or commented on the story! Today's installment- our two heroes finally meet.

The council chamber was nearly vibrating with the Force when Qui-Gon entered to report on his most recent mission. He noticed nearly half of the seats were empty, including that of Master Yoda. _Probably because the masters can't stand to hear of my failure_, he thought. He checked to see that his hood fully covered the fresh scars on his face and bowed before the council.

"Welcome home, Qui-Gon," said Master Windu with a nod, "I'll admit I'm very relieved to see you back alive. Two years is an unusually long mission for you." Though Qui-Gon scrutinized him carefully, Mace seemed genuinely glad to see him. Qui-Gon relaxed a fraction of an inch.

"Alive, yes," Qui-Gon agreed, silently leaving out the bitter comment about the state of his face. _Jedi aren't vain_, he lectured himself.

"Though I imagine it will be quite a while before we have the pleasure of reading the entirety of your report, could you summarize the status of your mission at this time?" Mace was still looking hopeful.

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth. "The mission is a failure, masters. I was unsuccessful in capturing the rogue Jedi, Goshee Lang, and to my knowledge she still lives. I have returned at the request of the council, though I have made every attempt to dissuade you. Lang is still terribly influential and dangerous to the Renigg system, and therefore all the Core worlds; she continues the Renigg civil war for her own purposes."

It was only his fourth mission failure, quite a record for a man his age by any standard. But it followed his failure with the Mandilorian peace talks and before that the Kashyyyk Armistice. Three out of four missions in the past seven years meant he might be up for review. And this last one was a _big _failure. He had been unable to negotiate a peace until Lang was captured, and had subsequently left Renigg to chase Lang halfway across the Galaxy. He was crossing into the Mid-Rim territories when the council called him back.

"Now you'll see why we've requested your return," Ki Adi Mundi said in his deep voice, "for you've just described a mission that was not your own. You were never charged with the capture of Goshee Lang, but with the restoration of peace to Renigg."

"Master Mundi, the two are one in the same. If you would just-"

"No, Master Jinn. The two are very different." Master Tiin pulled his arms into his sleeves and huffed out a breath. "In fact, we already have two jedi knights working on the capture of Lang, and your involvement actually endangered their own mission."

_Spawn of a Sith_, Qui-Gon cursed to himself. He was grateful the hood helped conceal his face, for it wouldn't do to have the High Council watch a grown master blush in their presence.

Master Tiin gave him a look, but continued, "We expect your report at the earliest possible convenience, though we know it will take time to write out your analysis of two full years. You are dismissed, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon's blush never faded all day. When he wasn't fuming by remembering his failed mission, he was burning under someone's stare while they noticed his new scars. His skin, beet red and scarred, must have been a sight. On one occasion, however, he was blushing for a very different reason.

"It's you!" Tahl whispered, dropping an armful of books when he walked into the archives.

Qui-Gon forgot what to do with his arms when he saw her. Was he supposed to tuck them in his sleeves? No, he decided quickly, that made him look too standoffish. The same would be true if he crossed them or put them in his pockets. He tried straight at his sides as she started to walk over, but even that felt wrong.

And then she pulled him into a hug. _Yes_, his breath came out in a rush of pleasure as he enfolded her in his robes; this is what arms were for. He held on to her slight frame and tried to ignore each and every stare of interested archive patrons. He would have been content to hold on far longer despite his embarrassment at this public embrace, but Tahl broke away to examine his face.

"Qui-Gon," she said seriously as she traced the outline of the largest scar, "these are not what you described to me. I was prepared for mutilation- a face I did not recognize. This is still you."

_Whether or not it is still me remains to be seen_, thought Qui-Gon, but he dared not voice this aloud. Instead, he gently pulled her hand away from his blushing face and suggested they catch up over dinner and restart their once weekly tradition. Her hands on his face reminded him he still needed to pay a visit to the healers. He left the archives with an extra skip in his step, unaware that while was on his way down to the medical wing, Obi-Wan was returning from Yoda's quarters through the same corridor.

Obi-Wan was walking at a brisk pace towards the Room of a Thousand Fountains. "Meditate on our conversation, you must. Find our answers in the Force, we shall."

Yoda had warned him about a great disturbance he sensed in the Force today, one which was tied up thoroughly in Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan didn't need Yoda to tell him that; the dreams had been getting more and more polarized each night, and the violence of the Sith dreams frightened him only slightly more than the passivity of the Light dreams. If it weren't for the shame he would feel on a shuttle to the AgriCorps, Obi-Wan might have considered abandoning the idea of a master altogether. And speaking of a master, a master's robes were coming into view out of the corner of his eye, and too late Obi-Wan realized they were on a collision course. He crashed into the broad chest of the master and would have fallen into an undignified heap if said master hadn't caught him by the shoulders.

"Here and now, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, brushing off Obi-Wan's shoulders with a bewildered smile, "Focus on the here and now."

Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide as he took in the master towering before him. It was only after he could shake off the funny feeling he was getting from the Force that he managed to mumble, "It's Initiate, actually."

"Ah," Qui-Gon said with pity in his eyes, "well then, _Initiate_, you must be more mindful of your present surroundings. Apparently, even in empty corridors."

Obi-Wan bowed low, "Yes, Master. I apologize for running into you. It won't happen again." Without looking up at the scarred master, Obi-Wan continued at an even faster pace away from the scene.

Qui-Gon watched the boy go. The Force was making him dizzy with visions… or were they memories? They flooded him as soon as he touched the Initiate, these memories both terrible and beautiful in their power. When the child was out of sight, however, the visions slipped away, leaving Qui-Gon confused. _Who was that boy?_

A/N: There you go! What do you think? As always, free shrimp dinners to those who have constructive criticism. :)


	4. Noodle Slurping

A/N: Back! Sorry for a longer-than-promised delay. Apparently, student teaching is crazy stressful and time-consuming. Who knew? But enough about me, you want Obi and Qui! :)

The cafeteria was a zoo. Scores of older initiates and padawan-less Masters were milling about, each in various stages of searching for the registration table or waiting to be matched. A group of younglings, unsupervised, were sitting in a circle around one initiate. The male in question was inhaling spice dumplings through his nose to the delight of the group. Another pack of females on the other side of the cafeteria had created a hair-braiding circle, with one girl left with the unfortunate task of braiding the body hair of a young Wookie. All around the room, there were children running and yelling, and Masters already checking themselves for gray hairs. Qui-Gon surveyed the chaos from the doorway and cursed Mace Windu for the second time that day.

"You know it's for the best, Qui," Tahl said from his side where she'd placed herself a few hours ago. Qui-Gon had mumbled that he didn't want to go to this Master/Padawan mixer alone, and Tahl blessedly agreed to join him. She continued, "Mace said that choosing a Padawan would keep you from review. You hate being in front of the council, and exempting your last, you really enjoyed having a padawan. So let's make nice with the littlies, and find you a protégé." She gave him her best 'cheer up' smile to go along with the pep talk.

Qui-Gon sighed as he watched two boys sprinting at each other in a game of force-propelled chicken. She was right. Not that Qui-Gon would ever admit it out loud, but one of these kids was his ticket to better terms with the Masters above him. He gave her a firm nod and together they marched up to the registration table.

"Ah, Master Qui-Gon, Master Tahl. I have been expecting you." The insectoid Jedi whom Qui-Gon did not recognize used four of his appendages to boot up data on his computer. "You have been matched with an initiate named Bant Eerin, Tahl. And you, Qui-Gon…" The Jedi's multi-faceted eyes narrowed at the screen, and he typed in a few more symbols. "I'm sorry, there's a problem with the software. Perhaps he has removed himself from the event? Hold on one moment."

Tahl shuffled her feet and craned her neck around his massive form, her eyes scanning the room. Apparently, she didn't only accompany him because of his flawless puppy-dog face.

"Go and find your child, Tahl. I'm sure I'll figure something out."

Tahl didn't even ask if Qui-Gon was sure before giving his hand a tight squeeze and running off. Qui-Gon's hand tingled where she touched it, and for a second he lost himself in trying to hold on to the feeling.

"Master Jinn?" the insectoid Jedi asked.

Qui-Gon balled his hand into a fist. _Attachments lead to the Dark Side. Keen on joining your former padawan, are you?_

The Jedi started to babble, "I'm not sure what happened. I found your initiate, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but it's like he's been erased and haphazardly put back into the system. I don't know what to make of it. Here's your registration card, but if he doesn't show up, I'll personally see that you receive a replacement initiate, Master. I'm so sorry for this mix up." Qui-Gon nodded and took the paper from the Jedi at the table before striding off.

Within seconds a voice came over an intercom, indicating that both masters and initiates should take their seats at the tables indicated on their cards. Qui-Gon wove in and out of darting initiates, bumping into several before finding his place. But when he looked up, a small, sandy-haired boy was already there waiting for him.

The boy rose upon seeing Qui-Gon and bowed deeply. "Master Jinn. I thank you for taking the time to come today. It is a- a pleasure to meet you."

Qui-Gon smiled at the obviously rehearsed speech and bowed in return, "The pleasure is all mine, Initiate Kenobi. Though I don't believe this is the first time we've met, unless I'm mistaken?"

The initiate gave a small smile, "No, Master Jinn, you're not mistaken. You were the master who taught me the valuable lesson about being aware of my surroundings. Even in empty hallways."

"And aware you seemed to be when waiting for me. Lesson well received."

The boy smiled even wider, but then fell silent, waiting for Qui-Gon to speak as he'd probably been instructed. Qui-Gon, however, felt nervous. The boy had prepared remarks, but why hadn't he? He looked up to see a pair of expectant eyes trained on his face, and he instantly looked down again. _Sith_ he thought internally, _I've forgotten how to be around initiates entirely. _

Thankfully, the silence was interrupted by the sound of the intercom, indicating the pairs in his section of the cafeteria could go to any of the various counters to choose their meals. Qui-Gon motioned for Obi-Wan to choose a station, and he followed the boy up to the section with pasta-like substances in thick sauces.

While waiting in line, Qui-Gon thought of something to ask, "Initiate Kenobi, why are you here?"

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side with a puzzled look on his face, "Because I like noodles?"

Qui-Gon chuckled as he rolled his eyes, "No, initiate. While I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about noodles, I was asking why you chose to come to this event."

Obi-Wan took so long to answer, Qui-Gon was about to ask again. But finally he heard the boy say in a small voice, "I decided to follow the Force. It was the Force that led me to register my name, despite a block from some… unknown location."

Qui-Gon felt around the boy's Force signature and determined that though he hadn't outright lied, he was certainly hiding something. He let the matter go, however, as he was 0-2 in picking conversation topics.

As a result, they went back to their table and ate the rest of their meal in silence. Well, relative silence. Obi-Wan tended to enjoy his meal most when he could slurp his noodles. When the slurping noise became too annoying for Qui-Gon, however, he burst out with the first thing that came to mind that he thought suitable for an eleven year old.

"Do you enjoy Qeechii*?" he asked. _Qeechii? That's what you think young boys like?_

But the boy's eyes lit up. "I do! The computer is too easy though, so Bant and I hacked into the system and now it lets us play each other!" The joyous expression was gone in seconds though, and Obi-Wan looked at the table, saying "I apologize for my behavior, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon was confused. Why would any youngling looking to make an impression be honest enough to admit to a Master that they committed even the most venial of infractions? But something pushed Qui-Gon to confirm the boy wasn't just affecting humility to impress him.

"What behavior is that, Obi-Wan?" he asked, feigning ignorance, "You did nothing wrong."

"Master Jinn, I was bragging about hacking into the Qeechii system. Jedi aren't supposed to brag about themselves, but think about others instead. Maybe you've never hacked it before! I wouldn't want you to feel bad."

A loud laugh burst from Qui-Gon, interrupting the whole cafeteria. In hearing the child's honesty, Qui-Gon felt the strangest feeling of joy well up in his chest. It was like the first time he held a lightsaber, or the feeling he had whenever he saw the Jedi Temple come into view after an away mission. It was such a deep feeling of _rightness_ that he had to laugh. He felt strangely complete, like the living Force was singing its approval of the pair. He never expected to feel that for a person. Well, except for Tahl…

And then Qui-Gon stopped laughing. _Qui-Gon, you fool. Getting attached again? And this time to a boy you've only just met? Some Jedi of the Light..._

The boy with the sandy hair had no idea about the war that had just broken out in Master Jinn's head, but he was sensitive enough to sense something was amiss. This master was silent for almost the whole time, then asked a silly question, then laughed loud enough to disturb anyone, and now was looking a little angry. A few other pairs were breaking up across the room, so Obi-Wan decided it was safe to follow. Oh well, he'd gotten to eat most of his noodles. Obi-Wan stood up and cleared his throat.

"Master Jinn, I have greatly enjoyed getting to know you. I hope to see you around the Temple again," but here he broke away from the responses Master Tachi taught him, "although I hope I won't _literally_ run into you again."

Obi-Wan gave a serious bow towards the Master who was behaving most un-Masterly by not also standing up. When the older Jedi failed to acknowledge Obi-Wan at all, the boy slunk off towards the direction he'd last seen Bant. Maybe she could help him understand why a Master would stare into his pasta bowl like that...

.

.

.

*Qeechii is a game I imagined was rather like chess, but more complicated. Think Sheldon's three-decker chess board from the Big Bang Theory, if you like.

A/N: And that's all for this week. Join us next time when we answer why Qui-Gon can't just love his obviously pre-destined munchkin the way the kid ought to be, what's going on between Mr. L'Oreal commercial and Tahl, and just what happened to Obi-Wan's name on the registration list. Leave guesses in the review box!


	5. The hunt for Lang

A/N: Every weekend between my last update and today (which I recognize was a certifiable long-a** time), I guiltily looked at my laptop and whispered apologies to you lovely readers. You really are the reason I keep writing this at all, and for that I'm grateful.

Here's the latest update, written with love and gratitude.

Obi-Wan marched next to Bant in the silent line of initiates. The worry washing off his crèche master made Obi-Wan sick to his stomach, though he knew better than to ask how much danger they were in. The urgency of the voice on the intercom ordering all initiates and younglings _out_ of the cafeteria and all available Knights _into_ the café with sabers drawn was enough to keep him from asking questions.

Out of the corner of his eye, there was a flash of red light and then a burning smell. Obi-Wan turned his head and saw a gaunt, green-tinted woman wearing all black robes staring directly at him. He looked behind her and saw an arrow burned into the wall, pointing in the opposite direction. Once she'd made eye contact a second time, she activated her scarlet lightsaber and force-flipped out of sight.

"Bant," Obi-Wan whispered, grabbing his friend by the hand. They had been at the end of the initiate line already, but now the train was continuing on without them as Obi-Wan tugged her towards the direction of the arrow.

"Obi! What are you, crazy?" She struggled against his grip, but he pointed towards the still smoldering wall.

"Bant, that woman was looking right at me. I need to go to her. It was almost as if she was asking me to."

At this, Bant Force-pushed him to the ground and slipped out of his grasp. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are the biggest, emptiest-brained Jedi ever. I mean of COURSE you should go chasing after some dangerous rogue-Jedi. It makes total sense! You have a full zero years of experience, after all."

Obi-Wan calmly stood up and took a step backwards. "I want to know what she wants. We learned in history that dark Jedi are not always bad, sometimes they're misguided or just really confused. I just want to know. If there's any way to help her, I mean…" Obi-Wan trailed off and shook his head, affirming his decision, "I'm going with or without you." He turned around and started stalking down the corridor after the green woman.

Bant sighed. She knew she was doing exactly what Obi-Wan wanted, but she still jogged to catch up to her friend.

Qui-Gon's scarred face was twitching in anticipation. He'd been waiting for this day since he'd been pulled out of his mission prematurely. Goshee Lang, the rogue Jedi, was loose in the Temple, and he wasn't going to fail again. She'd be captured and brought to justice, if a few years too late in Qui-Gon's opinion. While a part of him longed to pay back his disfigurement in her death, he squelched that part of him into the furthest recesses of his mind. _Focus on the here and now_, he coached himself.

He had stayed long enough in the cafeteria to gather that she was fully armed, arrived on a personal transport that was now confiscated, and that her motives were unknown. Qui-Gon racked his brains for an answer to the missing piece as he ran through a steamy boiler room below the main levels of the Temple. Lang was a mixed breed, half human and half of an unknown amphibious race, so Qui-Gon had always known her to prefer more humid environments like this.

He hadn't been asked for his expert opinion on the suspect at the debriefing meeting, and so he hadn't felt compelled to offer it. If they wanted to waste time searching on the roofs when Lang was clearly afraid of heights, so be it. He'd prefer to hunt alone anyway.

He waved away a burst of dense steam as he passed by the largest boiler, and froze when he sensed, rather than heard, a low rumble come from a short distance ahead of him. Qui-Gon immediately slipped into the shadows and dulled his force signature, hoping to maintain his element of surprise. He strained to hear the sound of footsteps, lightly tapping against the concrete floor and getting closer. The feet were wearing shoes other than those standard-issued to Jedi; Qui-Gon could hear a metallic echo that could never come from a Jedi's smooth leather shoe.

Slightly before the footsteps passed Qui-Gon's hiding place behind the boiler, they stopped suddenly. He could hear a door opening at the far end of the boiler room, and over the sound of his own pounding heart, he could faintly distinguish two new pairs of footsteps.

"Ah," a distinctly female voice said from slightly ahead of Qui-Gon, "You saw my note."

"We come unarmed," a different, and much younger female voice answered, her words increasing in volume as she neared the first woman. "You aren't allowed to harm us, as we pose no threat to you. It's punishable by death."

"Ah, brave little one," the woman said, "I fear death like the flower fears the sun. This is to say, I thrive on it."

The girl was silent, and Qui-Gon could sense the intense fear that poured off of her Force-signature in that moment. _Why haven't you learned to shield, little one? She'll use that fear to her advantage, make no mistake._

"It was you I wanted to speak with, however," the woman said to the other person beside the girl.

"Yes," a voice Qui-Gon recognized in one horrible second, "I understood your intent, but not your motive. Can I help you? Are you really a dark Jedi?"

The second sentence hadn't left Obi-Wan's mouth before Qui-Gon had sprung from behind the boiler, lightsaber cackling to life in his hands.

Goshee Lang didn't even turn to face Qui-Gon. Instead, she flicked her hand backwards and with a terrific Force-push sent Qui-Gon flying backwards, where he hit his head on the metal boiler and landed with a thud. He didn't rise.

"Yes, Obi-Wan, I am a dark Jedi. For now." She started to circle him with cat-like movements, completely ignoring the quavering Bant beside him. "You know, Obi-Wan, I wasn't a powerful Jedi. I wasn't great at dueling, or giving Force-suggestions, or diplomacy. But now that I've embraced the dark, I do have dreams. I see you and your future master every night in my sleep."

Obi-Wan tried to remain as still as he could to avoid giving away his shock, but she still sensed it the way a shark senses blood. She came from behind him and whispered in his ear, "You know the dreams of which I speak. You should be proud of yourself, Obi-Wan. You hold a powerful potential inside of you. You could be even more powerful than me, with the right training..."

Just after she'd finished the last word, Qui-Gon attempted to kick her legs out from under her from his position on the floor. She leapt nimbly over him, however, and when she landed her robes swished around her. She smiled down at Qui-Gon. "You're still pathetic, Jinn."

But then she truly did tumble to the floor. Bant was standing behind her looking shocked, and Qui-Gon quite literally jumped onto the suggestion. "You're under arrest," he said quietly. He was squeezing her hands behind her back.

"Go, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon ordered, "Tell Master Yoda I have captured the prisoner and will bring her presently."

Obi-Wan ran off without a word, and Bant followed quickly behind him. That left two alone in the boiler room. Qui-Gon was fiddling with the Force-resistant bonds he'd brought with him, but Lang kept breaking free, one arm at a time.

"You know he'll be mine, Jinn," she said between tugs and pants. She had her foot pressed up against Qui-Gon's chest in an attempt to pry herself away.

"Obi-Wan would never choose the likes of you, Lang. He's far too grounded in the light." Qui-Gon managed to snap one of the bands onto her left hand, but missed her right when she twisted it out of his grasp.

Goshee Lang laughed out loud. "Oh, Jinn, you don't see him like I do. The dreams that boy has? Oh, if he were Dark he'd wreak enough havoc to tear the Jedi order from its highest citadel."

With a final pull, Lang broke free, the empty second band flapping uselessly against the one attached to her left hand. Her right hand, still Force sensitive, summoned her scarlet 'saber with a Force-pull and carved an arc through the air. If Qui-Gon had reflexes that were milliseconds slower, he'd have died on the spot with a lightsaber through his face. Instead, he felt the searing pain of the tip of her 'saber across his forehead and through his hair. As he sank to the ground in pain, he could see her retreating form through his closing eyelids.

A/N: And there you have it! I'm thinking of bringing a beta into the mix, to help me answer questions of 'is this flowing well?' and 'is this clear?' Hopefully my bachelor's degree in English (WHICH I RECEIVE THIS WEEKEND! YIPPEE!) should prevent most questions of 'is this grammatically correct?' Are any of you readers, already so familiar with my style and or plot, interested?

For those of you uninterested in beta-ing, know that I take reviews and suggestions seriously, and that your comments are always welcome in the box below. :)


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